


Ron and Draco, With the Dagger, in the Library

by EntreNous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-24
Updated: 2010-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How the hell Ron had undone the charms securing [the dagger] to its scabbard and display case, Draco didn't know; his mind had focused on other more exciting things at the moment.."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ron and Draco, With the Dagger, in the Library

"Shh, shh," Ron soothed, drawing the edge of the blade just over Draco's milky skin.

"Nng," Draco moaned around his fist. He couldn't wriggle away or buck up closer, because Ron had him good and pinned, the stupid hulking red-haired --

"Oh, fuck," Draco blurted, fist flying out of his mouth and thumping the thick Oriental rug they had stretched out on, as Ron licked along the beads of blood on his arm. First the sharp tip of his ridiculously talented tongue (probing, opening), then the flat of it (a meandering path that cleaned away the red only to bring up more), making the shallow cuts burn and flow.

"Quiet, now," Ron murmured. He sat back, straddling Draco, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he brought the dagger to his mouth -- that prized dagger from Draco's father's collection that he had shown them earlier that night, as part of his continuing campaign to intimidate the fuck out of Ron into staying away from his son. How the hell Ron had undone the charms securing it to its scabbard and display case, Draco didn't know; his mind had focused on other more exciting things at the moment..

Ron had taken off his shirt some time earlier, though his fitted black trousers still hugged his muscled legs, and now as he lapped the bloody edge of the dagger, a drop of blood tipped over the edge and splashed against his right pectoral. Draco's blood, a stain and a trickle winnowing an abstract path down along Ron's freckles.

Draco licked his lips and tried to half-rise, position himself to reach and mouth, but Ron splayed a strong hand on his chest and kept him down.

A beat passed, a moment of silence when a peculiar look stole over Ron's face. Draco watched through half-lowered eyelashes: it was the one where Ron's blue eyes went soft and he regarded Draco with an odd mingling of impulses -- much like Draco's father and the way he held and handled those precious daggers of his -- a reverential gentleness paired with a frisson of excitement at the opportunity for violence, a fierce kind of possession and pride made up of equal parts adoration of his treasure and the urgency to hoard the prize away from others.

Draco huffed as the pause stretched out. "You're not _done_ , are you? Not going to pull away, tell me you don't want to hurt me, like I'm a child, or refuse to give me more when I've _expressly_ said, oooohhh," Draco ended by whimpering when Ron grinned at him and lowered the knife once more.

"Think we ought to be doing this somewhere besides your dad's library?" Ron whispered in his ear just as he pressed the blade on a parallel course beside the first red line on Draco's arm. He brushed his thumb across it and then slid the digit into his mouth.

"Forget about where we are, and just get on with it," Draco hissed, but he trembled as Ron loomed over him before he dipped down to bite a path along Draco's neck, arched his back into Ron's body settling on his even as he pushed up at Ron's strong hands weighing down his wrists.


End file.
